Familiar
by ChammieHuddles
Summary: There was something in the way he’d touched her shoulder, but Allison Cameron couldn’t quite put a finger to it. His touch was… vaguely familiar. Robert Chase and Allison Cameron first met at Princeton – Plainsboro. Or did they? -Chameron- complete!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

**Disclaimer**: There's a reason they call these things fanfiction, and it's not because David Shore makes them.

**Summary**: _There was something in the way he'd touched her shoulder, but Allison Cameron couldn't quite put a finger to it. His touch was… vaguely familiar._ Robert Chase and Allison Cameron first met at Princeton – Plainsboro. Or did they? Angst, nostalgia, humor and romance, all in two chapters. Chameron.

_**Chapter One**_

"God, this is too much... augh!" a 17-year old Robert Chase grimaced as he leanes against the aged oak tree. His head had been threatening to crack open since the night before, and this morning it wasn't doing any better. Sneaking out for an early morning change in scenery had seemed like a good idea while he was in the house, but now that he was in the quiet environment of the yet-deserted park it didn't seem to help. Or did it?

"If dad were here… oh, crap." The pain seemed to intensify as his thoughts turned to his estranged father. It had been a little more than two years since Rowan Chase stepped out of their lives and right now his son had yet to begin to learn not to care.

He brought a hand to his blond head and attempted to sleep the pain away. "Might as well sleep right here."

"Hey, you're not feeling that well, are you?" an unfamiliar voice said softly.

"That's putting it lightly," he mumbled, opening an eye to glance at the stranger. She was American - that much he could tell from her accent. Here reddish-brown hair – more red than brown, actually – fell in loose waves across her shoulders as she looked at him with a striking pair of puppy-dog eyes. "Who are you and what are you doing here? …. No offense, but…"

She laughed easily. "Vacation with some friends. But I'm an early riser and they're not, so…" She settled in beside him as she curled up to face him. Here eyes were filled with concern as she set her gaze upon his face.

"You do realize I'm not to be much company," Robert said as her closed his eyes in pain once more.

"I know." Strange. She was still smiling.

"Ungh." He was in agony, and this beautiful creature he'd have asked out on a better day had to be here and see it.

"Here." To his surprise, she'd placed her hands on his head and began to smooth his locks back.

"What are you doing?"

"Ssshhh."

Her hands gentle yet firm, she began to massage his aching head. He continued to close his eyes as he let her fingers take the pain away.

"Hey, thanks," He reached up to hold her fingers I his. "I feel better already."

"Good." She smiled, seemingly unmindful of their intertwined fingers.

"You do this all the time? Taking care of random strangers?"

"Only strangers I like."

"Hmm. You'll make a good nurse."

"I'm going to be a doctor."

"You'll make a good one, too."

"Really? You think?"

He glanced at her and noticed she had a bit of a cleft chin. He liked it. "Yeah… I can tell. Crap, wait…" He fumbled for his phone which had just started ringing.

"Robbie, where are you? I've been looking all over…" His mother's voice, fearful and worried, came over the line. "Robbie, are you leaving me like your father did?" She always asked that question, even in the now-rare times that she was sober.

He sighed. "No, Mum. I'm just outside. I'll be back." Hanging up and shoving the phone into his pocket, he turned to face the girl who had been his angel, if only for a few moments. "Look, I really have to go now…"

She cocked her head. "You good enough to go?"

"Yep." He laid his hand on her left shoulder. "That meant a lot even if I don't you. Thank you, alright?"

"You're welcome," she smiled.

"Take care, okay?" With that, he stood and jogged away, turning back only once.

She smiled and waved at his retreating form. She'd have loved to ask a lot of questions, but something held her back. Something told her that her questions would only lead to more.

Ooo000ooO

"Where on earth have you been?" his mother's speech was slurred as she tottered toward his in her nightgown. She leaned in close to see his face, so close he could see the vacant depths in her eyes and smell the alcohol on her breath.

"Outside, Mum," he answered shortly, grabbing her wrist and trying to pry the gin bottle from her surprisingly strong grip.

"Don't take it away, Robbie, please…" she begged.

"It's bad for you, Mum! Look, you're getting worse…"

"I'll be worse off without it… Please don't!.. No!" She cried as he finally managed to tear it away. "Come on, baby… Give it back to Mummy…"

"No, Mum."

"Give it back to me!"

"No!"

Smack. His head reeled to the side as she slapped him with all the drunken force she could muster. "I'm sorry, baby…" she stroked the cheek she had just made scarlet. "But this is all I have…" Tears streaming down her vacant eyes, she staggered back into the kitchen to drown herself once more.

Robert leaned against the door frame and slid to the carpeted floor. "You have me, Mum," he whispered.

Only one person seemed to truly care… and she happened to be a total stranger.

Ooo0ooO

Author's note: If you're wondering where the humor went, it's in the next and final chapter. Oh, and Foreman makes his entrance, too.

Reviews, comments, and constructive criticism are always welcome. Spam isn't.

See ya in the next chappie!


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note**: I just reread Chapter One and saw a lot of typos! I could have sworn they weren't in there when I uploaded that chappie… but then, these things happen. I guess I was just tired when I checked that. I'm really sorry for that, though. Hope there aren't any in this one!

Well, here's the final chappie! Who knows how many revisions it went through till I was happy with it, but here it is anyway.

_**Chapter Two**_

There was something in the way he'd touched her shoulder, but Allison Cameron could not quite put a finger to it. His touch was… vaguely familiar.

He'd taken his hand away when she'd looked at it, but there was still that gnawing sense of uncertainty in her head. Could he be?

It couldn't be, she thought. I'm just too worried about getting an HIV infection I'm starting to get absurd thoughts. If you're in Australia there's bound to be lots of blond guys with Aussie accents running around like House's proverbial wombats.

Besides, he seems too… well-adjusted.

He couldn't be that Australian boy.

Even if he looks just like him.

Ooo000ooO

"You _still_ have the hots for her," Eric Foreman grinned, his white teeth contrasting nicely with his chocolate skin. He and Chase were on their way to check up on Kalvin, allowing Cameron to escape from House's insensitivity and vent.

"I told you last time. The girl is obviously hot – but I do _not_ want to jump her," Chase pretended to be busy trying to read the chart and dodge passers-by at the same time.

"You don't? Then what was the 'concerned friend' act for?" Foreman cast his colleague a disbelieving glance. He had long since noticed Chase's well-hidden feelings for Cameron, but the blond Australian House often teased for being an idiot wasn't actually dumb at all. Foreman had the circumstantial evidence, but he wanted a good, solid confession.

"I really am concerned," Chase shrugged. "I've been working with her for like a couple of years… anyone human would be worried."

"Well I am, too, but you didn't see me give her an it's – okay hug, did you?"

Another shrug. "We're two different people, obviously."

Foreman sighed. Chase was certainly being very difficult. He didn't know why he needed to know the facts – he just did, and now desperate times called for desperate measures. He suddenly nudged Chase out of the way and planted himself at the door of the patient's room. "Chase – we're not getting in the room until you tell me what's going on."

"Foreman? You channeling House or something?"

"Tell me the truth!"

"This is crazy. He could be seizing in there! Or drowning in his pulmonary fluid… dammit, he could be getting high in there!"

"And that is why they have call buttons for nurses and why nurses can page us."

"Alright, I'll tell you something!" an exasperated Chase conceded. "You want it that bad..."

Foreman grinned. He should have known Chase's training in Intensive Care would instill the importance of constant vigilance into his attitude as a doctor.

Chase glared at Foreman. "Well, Cameron has always looked familiar. Like a girl I once… met." He shrugged. "That's why I keep looking at her."

"Medical-school ex? Or pre-med one night stand?"

"No, there was this girl I met, but whose name I never knew. Looked a whole lot like her. Happy?"

Foreman wasn't contented, but he conceded. Stepping aside, he grinned once more. "So… Cameron looks like she could be your mystery crush?"

"So." Chase said as he checked the patient's IV flow rate. "You suddenly develop a sarcastic tongue, a penchant for vulgar sexual references and an insatiable thirst for workplace gossip. You remind me of someone, too, Foreman."

"What?" Foreman responded weakly.

"I don't know who, but it's certainly striking. The name's on the tip of my tongue, actually."

"I am not like House!" Foreman burst out.

Chase's only reply was a smirk.

With a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, Foreman realized two things: one, that Chase really was no dumb wombat, and the other, that he –Eric Foreman- really was turning into Gregory House.

Ooo000ooO

"I may have HIV, and a drink isn't going to wash it away." A distraught Cameron looked like she was on the verge of yet more tears.

Chase hadn't meant to sound insensitive; he only wanted to make her take her mind off her problem. He glanced away from the closet he was snooping around in and caught a glimpse of her as she walked away.

"If you were that girl, Allison Cameron…"

"I'd do anything to take care of you this time."

Ooo000ooO

"She's beautiful even when she's drugged out," Chase decided, looking at the woman lying snuggled beside him. Propping himself up on his elbow, he gently brushed some loose waves of hair from her face. To his surprise, however, she woke up at his touch and reached up to him.

"You want more?" she whispered seductively, before planting soft, fluttery kisses on his neck.

He grabbed her by the shoulder and held her at arm's length; a quick assessment told him she was still somewhat high. "You have to sleep, Cameron… not unless you don't want to function tomorrow."

"The accent's so hot…" she murmured, oblivious to his advice. "D'you know it's hotter than Brit?"

He took a deep breath before asking softly, "How can you tell? … Ever been there?" He figured she wouldn't remember everything the following morning. If she did, then… he'd deal with it. For now, he just had to know.

"Yeah," she answered, eyes somewhat glazed. "A blond guy my age told me I'd be a good doctor."

His breath caught in his throat. "And?"

She looked away. "And, I believed him."

He cupped her chin in his hand, stroking the line that divided it with his thumb. And confirmed the prophecy he had made so long ago… "You ARE a good doctor… Allison."

Ooo000ooO

"Really? You sure you'll be alright alone?" he asked, voice tinged with concern.

She shot him a look laced with irritation. "Have you forgotten I'm a doctor?"

He sighed. He didn't really want to leave her alone, with crystal meth wearing off her nervous system and absolutely nothing useful in her medicine cabinet. But it was no use reasoning with her, not when she was in this state of mind. "Fine," he conceded. "But take care of yourself, okay? You can get some meds at the hospital tomorrow."

"Yeah, I will." Her eyes softened a bit in the dim light. "Thank you. You know… for being here and…"

"Anytime," he said shortly. "Good night," he added, stepping out and shutting the door.

Ooo000ooO

So it was her. No doubt, she hadn't outgrown her attraction to the wounded. The job as a doctor… The willingness to mourn a dying patient who had no one… The marriage to a dying man… The infatuation for another doctor with his own scars.

He shoved his hands into his pockets as he made his way down the corridor. It was her, all right. She with the emerald eyes and the healing hands, in whose voice he once found solace. She who now had her eyes set on someone else.

All of a sudden she was so near, so close… and just as suddenly she was so far away… out of his reach.

He closed his eyes and thought back to the elective Revolutionary Asian lit class he'd taken way back in high school. What was that bittersweet line again?

"_Farewell, sweet stranger!_

_My darling, my delight…"_

This isn't farewell yet, Allison Cameron, my sweet stranger. For now, this is only good-bye.

Ooo000ooO

End

Author's note: So how was it?

I'm sorry it took me so long to put this up. I had my "final" revision all set, but then I wanted to revise it again… and again… and again. Thank God I'm finally contented!

The lines of poetry at the last part of the story aren't mine. They were written by Jose Protacio Rizal Mercado y Alonso Realonda, better known as Jose Rizal, the national hero of the Philippines. Those lines were part of his last piece of poetry, Mi Ultimo Adios (My Last Farewell). It was written before his execution, and those lines were for his beloved, Josephine Bracken. The poem is originally in Spanish, but the lines I included in the story are part of my favorite English translation. They weren't supposed to be in this fic, but when I read the poem I thought of this, so… in they went!

Yeah, and I know Revolutionary Asian Literature sounds like a pretty weird class for high school, but Chase is pretty much weird, so… _

Anyway, thanks for reading… see ya in the next ficcie! ^_^


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